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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914089">Old and Insignificant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ella_Lavie/pseuds/Ella_Lavie'>Ella_Lavie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore, The Road to El Dorado (2000), abrahamic religions mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I have no shame, fanfic of a fanfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:48:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ella_Lavie/pseuds/Ella_Lavie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a common misconception that with age comes power.<br/>Now, I believe that most of you would not be surprised by the fact that mortals, for a certain point at least, become weaker as they age (I do sincerely hope that none of you fought your grandparents to prove it), but I am not talking about talking about mortals. </p><p>or: I am writing a fanfic of a fanfic, about a tree that am currently obsessed with, and I have no regrets.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chel/Miguel/Tulio (Road to El Dorado)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. a visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944652">family matters</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kaos/pseuds/Lady_Kaos">Lady_Kaos</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is a common misconception that with age comes power. </p><p>Now, I believe that most of you would not be surprised by the fact that mortals, for a certain point at least, become weaker as they age (I do sincerely hope that none of you fought your grandparents to prove it), but I am not talking about mortals. </p><p>There is something about the words “ancient god” to brings to mind, at the very least, a long history of impressive legends- if that god is unlucky those might include a fall from grace, a long lost high status.</p><p> </p><p>The deity standing at the Manoaian border was old. Older than the gods of Manoa. </p><p>Yes, everything about that man (save his looks, which are as youthful as ever) screams ancient- ancient and minor. Granted, he was never a god, and considering the direction the wind is flowing nowadays, he will never be one either. </p><p>This lowly tree spirit stood at the border, and waited.</p><hr/><p><em> How old was he? He couldn't remember, but he remembers the day he was born. He must admit to himself that he does not remember the details- was it a hyrax? a leopard? or that early human? He can not bring himself to recall. But he remembers them walking through the desert tired and hopeless, and spotting him from afar. He remembers them running towards him and stumbling into his shade, finally safe. He remembers the first thing that  </em> he <em>  truly remembered- their gratitude, maybe a purr or even a whisper, followed by their silence, as they wonder if the air truly curries with it a shadow of chill.  </em></p><hr/><p>“Lord Pan!”</p><p>That was not a name Tulio expected to hear today. Confused, he looked at the man trying to connect his face to a name, which only confused him further, as he realized he recognized nothing about him. </p><p>Seemingly, the man noticed his confusion, and explained “I heard through the grapevine that the two of you settled down here. This is my first time in the Americas, so I thought it would only be appropriate to pay a visit to an old friend.” </p><p>(I feel like I was too quick to call this an explanation, as it explained very little, if not made things less clear) </p><p>Tulio raised his eyebrow “Do I know you?” </p><p>“You weren't the old friend I was referring to- in all honesty, I don’t believe we’ve met in person before. I did hope that you might know who I am, you being the god of..” the man waved his hand vaguely at the jungle surrounding him as he trailed off. </p><p> </p><p>With that added bit of context, Tulio looks at the mam again and starts connecting dots. the man’s tan skin, curly hair, his clothes, those pink trends waived into the green fabric- where has he seen that pink before?</p><p>He takes a chance</p><p>“Taray?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. and an unwanted one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>yes! there is a plot:)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tree spirit’s face light up <br/>"Oh, Spain it is! I feared it would be Italy"<br/>Tulio raised his other eyebrow "Something happened in Italy?"<br/>"A ruched place. Horrible climate. Completely occupied by spoiled brats."<br/>Tulio never contemplated tree politics, or what they might think of each other, but of course a dese-<br/>"I go by Tamarisk now, by the way"<br/>A bit annoyed that his train of thought has been disturbed like that, Tulio answered "It's Britain for you then?"<br/>Tamarisk frowns "Haven't been Britain for 26 years."<br/>Agh, an American.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>If he does have a father, he thinks, he would share that father with all of creation, or at least, all the trees. That isn’t much of a father, not really, so whether he has one or not- Eshel does have an old man. His old man planted him (not that oak) down in Be'er Sheva, or was it Hebron? Does it matter? His old man made him a symbol of peace, evergreen and long-lasting, and Eshel thinks that that fits him just fine. His old man had sons, and his sons had more sons and daughters, and so on and so on up the family tree (the pun is intended), and Eshel, or Athl, is happy to see that those children respected the trees. They plant them with prayer or song, and with every tree planted, he knows, when they don’t, that all of those trees are planted for him, not only for Him.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Of course, Tulio let him in. Tamarisk hasn't quite mastered the pappy dog face (and he was nowhere near Miguel's level) but the earnest disappointment in his eyes as Tulio started to turn away was more than enough- he’s just a harmless little tree, after all.<br/>  <br/>Miguel disagreed. <br/>“Tulio- a word?” he said, after a very short reunion with his ‘old friend’. <br/>Tulio turned to him as they both started slowly walking away “Is there a problem?”<br/>“Remember that little voice you always tell me about? I don’t think you have one ether!”<br/>“Miguel, what are talking about?”<br/>“Why did you bring <em>him</em> here?”<br/>Tulio looked back at the tree spirit currently chatting with Chel “What problem can you have with <em>him</em>?”<br/>“Well,'' Miguel said, now also looking at the man “His claim to fame tends to be rather.. Abrahamic.” <br/>Tulio sucked air through his teeth “Fuck.”</p>
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